Of all the chocolate shops in all of Belgium…

Last weekend we went to Bruges for the day. A self professed chocoholic, one of the first places we hit was the chocolate museum. All in all, it was worth our time. It was very comprehensive and top marks for high production values. It explained the history of chocolate from the time of the Aztecs and Mayans up to present day Belgian chocolatiers. There was even one room dedicated to statues made out of chocolate.


Naturally, we ended our tour in the gift shop perusing for chocolate souvenirs. Meandering down one of the lines, I looked to my right and I saw a middle-aged man with khaki shorts, white T-shirt with “Autism Run 2008” on it and a fanny pack with a Canadian flag on it. Typical tourist uniform. But in the millisecond I had to look at him, one thought flashed into my mind: Man, that guy looks like Howard Hampton. As I was surrounded by mostly friends from British Columbia, no one could confirm my sighting. Even my friend from York University was unsure. The man had a few days beard growth and besides, what were the chances of seeing Howard Hampton in a tiny town in Belgium?

Well, apparently very good as it was Howard Hampton. Turns out he was visiting Bruges with his wife and kids and assorted family members. They had come from Vimy Ridge the day before and were staying in Bruges. He was a very nice man. He asked us what we were doing in Belgium and how we were liking it. He didn’t even object when we dragged him out of the store for a picture. I’ve lived in Toronto for 18 years and Ontario for almost 22, but it takes leaving Ontario for Belgium for me to meet an Ontario politician.

The truth about bling

The city of Antwerp (a city in the Flemish part of Belgium) is known mostly for two things. The first is its fashion industry, which I thought was odd as I’d never heard of Antwerp in relation to fashion. The second, is for diamonds. And fact, in Antwerp there is an entire street dedicated to dealers, wholesalers and jewelers of those precious little stones (the picture below). There is also a Diamond Museum. A sucker for education and learning of any kind, I went to the museum and learned about the diamond trade, from finding them in the ground to sticking it in a ring. Therefore, I give you the Top 5 Things You Never Knew About Diamonds.


5. Diamonds, eh? For some countries like Sierra Leone and the Congo, diamonds are a pretty old business. But it’s fairly new in Canada. In fact, we are the newest entry into the diamond business with the discovery of diamonds nestled in the Northwest Territories in the late 1990s.

4. That’s some good advertising. Diamonds aren’t exactly a necessity, but they’ve been selling pretty well for the last few decades (2004 sales were worth $5.7 billion). Part of this is because diamonds are oh so pretty but part of this is advertising. In 2001, De Beer’s diamond marketing campaign, “A Diamond is Forever,” was voted the best advertising slogan of the twentieth century by Advertising Age. Created in 1947 by Frances Gerety, a young copywriter, legend has it that she came up the slogan in a dream.

3. Antwerp is kind of a big deal. Indeed, this little city in quiet little Belgium is quite an important hub for diamonds. It is estimated that 80% of all diamonds pass through Antwerp at some point. The Antwerp diamond sector itself brings in about $39 billion each year and the diamond trade is responsible for the 8% of Belgian exports and employs about 30,000 people directly or indirectly.

2. Hard up. Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend but they can be a metalworker’s best friend too. In fact 80 per cent of mined diamonds (or about 100 million carats a year) are unsuitable for gem use. So industry takes them. They’re mostly used in cutting, drilling or polishing. But researchers are looking at hi-tech applications of diamonds. Because of their conductivity (electrical and heat), they can also be used in semiconductors. These diamonds are called industrial diamonds.

1. What’s in a name? De Beers is a big player in diamonds—it's responsible for 40% (by value) of world diamond production. They’re involved in almost every process of diamond production, refining and distribution. Most people think there is a DeBeers family like the Rockefellers, Trumps, Loblaws or Gates that started the company and still own a part of it . Well, you’d be wrong. The DeBeers were brothers that owned land in Kimberley, South Africa, an area rich in diamonds in the nineteenth century. It was actually Cecil Rhodes (huge racist, founder of Rhodesia—which later became Zambia and Zimbabwe—and the Rhodes Scholarship) who bought the land and started the company. To be fair, a family has run De Beers for a long part of its history (the Oppenheimers, led by patriarch Ernest, bought the company in 1926 and held it until it went private in 2001). It just wasn’t the De Beers.

the beautiful game

Here in Belgium, we are in the throes of Euro Cup fever. Every day I go into work and there is usually a discussion on last night's/last weekend's game. And every night the streets come alive with horns and shorts of supporters of whatever team has been victorious that day (as a native Torontonian, this isn't new). In this neighborhood, it's Turkey (though we saw some Croatian flags when Croatia was still in the tournament). One of my friends lives in a Portuguese neighborhood. I was downtown in the beginning of the tournament and it was Germans waving flags. Last week, I went to a local bar to watch the Portugal v. Germany game. The bar we wanted to go to was packed to capacity. They had set up huge flate screen TVs to show the game and a large crowd filled up the sidewalk, spilling into the road. In the bar we ended up going to, there were three screens in one room, all showing the game.

None of this is new or even unexpected. It’s not a surprise that Europeans like soccer. But what is surprising is the complete single-mindedness to which they pursue this love, to the exclusion of all other sports. I’ve been in Europe for about a month or so. In my time here, I’ve never seen anyone play anything other than game or activity on the street. When we were on the tour, some guys went to a nearby park and jumped into a community game of soccer with local kids, just like that. I think this picture says it all.
I took it a few weeks ago. Notice the crowd of kids on the left side. They’re playing soccer. There is a basketball net there as well, so when I walked by I thought they were playing basketball. Excited at this monumental occasion, I got my camera out. But they weren’t. Maybe the designers had hoped to get children into basketball by putting the net there as well, who knows.

Is there something about soccer that makes it more attractive to Europeans? Is it the physical activity? The artistry in the ball control (you can see where my allegiance lies)? Is it because soccer only requires minimal equipment whereas hockey and American football requires loads of padding? Because involves only a ball and a net. Is a climate thing? In Canada, there is a large distinction between summer, winter, fall and spring and so it's common to play sports according to the climate. Is it a cultural thing? I don’t know. But I do know that I don’t see a future for basketball here.

Call off the guards, I'm still here...

Hello friends,

Yes, I'm still here, alive and well. It's been a busy week--we've moved in to our new place, I've had my first full week at work, the Euro Cup, and I've mostly recovered from my cold--so that should explain the lack of posts. I think it's appropriate that I start up again after my birthday. Now that I'm a bit older, a bit wiser, I'll share that aforementioned wisdom with you lot.

For those wondering, the big 2-2 has come and gone. It was brilliant (there was yummy Thai food and cake involved--who wouldn't like that?). Thanks to everyone in Belgium for the awesome party and everyone at home for the lovely wishes.

Ride the wave

An example of some trippy European new age architecture.

The power of positive thinking?

I’ve wanted to write this post for a while. But given today’s results of the Irish referendum, it seems especially appropriate.

When we toured the Parliament last week, I was struck by this structure.

Called Confluences, it is a 36 meter high sculpture in stainless steel. Its parts hang from the ceiling but are not held together at any other point. Touch one part and the whole thing moves. Crafted by Belgian artist Olivier Strebelle, its name has various meanings:

–noun

1.	a flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the like: the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.

2.	their place of junction: St. Louis is at the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.

3.	a body of water formed by the flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the like.

4.	a coming together of people or things; concourse.

5.	a crowd or throng; assemblage.

On the tour, our speaker explained the symbolism of this statue was intentionally left ambiguous. Does the sculpture represent the joining of the 27 Member States to form the EU? Or does it represent Strasbourg, the other seat of the European Parliament and, as I mentioned earlier, the historical bone of contention between EU pioneers France and Germany? Is it a symbol that the EU faces; where touching one element/policy area/nation state/issue affects the whole? Does it represent governments at all? Does it represent Europeans coming together to celebrate their common history and geography as Europeans?

Throughout this whole trip, when certain officials have spoken of the EU they have called it the “EU project.” This process of integrating almost 400 million people, 27 nation states, 23 languages (so far) and 15 economies into one voice is an ongoing, evolutionary one. I find this concept and the acceptance of its premise by many within and without the EU, fascinating.

The EU’s motto is “United in diversity.” It sounds pretty and is a noble goal but how feasible is it? When we were at the German Bundesbunk school, one pupil mentioned the older generation’s apprehension to adopt the Euro. But she said the younger generations are more willing because they don’t have that sense of history invested in the German Mark, the Italian Lira or the French Franc. She said as the EU continues to bring prosperity to Europe, attitudes will change. Now, this seems to have hit the nail on the head.

In the absence of a common history, language, culture or any element that traditionally unites a people, shared affluence can be used to create a nation. This isn’t new for Canadians. That’s exactly what John A. MacDonald did to British North America in 1867. The hope is that in time this common culture will be fostered. Has this happened in Canada? If you ask me, no, it has not.

But can it happen in Europe? With the failure of the Constitutional Treaty—whose content is strikingly similar to the Lisbon Treaty save a few nationalist trappings like a common EU flag and national anthem— in 2006 and the failure of this first hurdle for the Lisbon Treaty, it doesn’t look good. It seems like nationalism—that sense that I am a member of this state and that means I’ll do whatever it takes to see it safe and posper –like we see in the United States and Russia, is proving to be the most enduring form of unity.

But it’s an interesting experiment. I, for one, will keep my eye on developments.

A good sign

Yesterday when I left my house in the morning this scene greeted me.

I have a feeling I will enjoy this neighborhood.

In case you're wondering, it was in celebration of Portugal's win.

In the middle of the street?

I was walking down a shopping street on a busy Saturday and saw this lovely structure.

Maybe one of the reasons Belgium (and Europe) had a declining birth rate?
Probably not. In any case, I think we need them in Canada...

TOUR-ists no more

The end has come and with it a bitter end. Yes, the 2008 EU Study Tour ended last night. And just like we had 3 weeks earlier, we packed into a restaurant ate, drank wine and were merry.

But this time we knew each other and the conversation was loud, animated and the wine flowing. After speeches from the Tour organizers Dr. Alexandre Berlin and Ed Lavelle (our fearless leaders and the older men on the left and right in the picture below) we erupted into a fit of pictures. Here are a selection.

I have to say, I’ve very much enjoyed the tour. It took me to places I never thought I’d see and taught me a lot about a lot of different issues. I’ve also met some great people here that will not soon be forgotten.

Then we went to another bar and drank some more.

Yes, Mr. President

The Tour ended on a high note. We went to the European Parliament for a long day of parliamentary politics. Much has been said about the EU’s democratic deficit—and most of it is true. When the Parliament was first set up in 1952, parliamentarians had no power and operated in an advisory fashion. Even today Members of European Parliament (MEPs) can’t really propose legislation, that’s the job of the Commission. But it was still interesting to hear from their side.

The obvious highlight of the day came in the morning when we met the President of the European Parliament, Hans-Gert Pottering.

For those of us not familiar with the inner workings of European Parliaments (and less face it, Europeans are not even experts as one of our speakers, a communications representative, had to defer to his assistant many times), the President is similar to the Speaker of the House in Canada. He has to make sure order is kept and presides over the session (with its 785 MEPs). His signature is needed on all legislation. It is also the President that represents the Parliament externally and so Pottering gets to travel abroad on the EU’s dime.

And so when he arrived in the small room where we had sat for 20 minutes awaiting his arrival, it was like meeting a President of a country, not a Parliament. People who had left the room two minutes earlier to go to the bathroom were quickly ushered back in and the room instantly filled with a dozen more bodies as his entourage flowed in. We stood respectfully when he walked in and clapped after we were introduced. He talked about who he was and the like--and was pretty funny too which was a surprise--but I can’t remember any of it now. What I can remember was the Q&A afterward where I asked him a question. My questions was, “What do you attribute the declining voter turnout in European Union elections to? Especially considering turnout has declined as the Parliament has gotten more power?” The answer: the media. He said voter apathy is a result of the media reporting only bad things about the EU. He then gave an example about how in light of the European Central Banks tenth anniversary a pole found two-thirds of Germans thought the Euro was a good idea. But the paper used as its headline “1/3 of Germans unhappy with Euro.” He ended by saying, “If the media reported better things about the EU, perhaps people would like it more. See what you can do about that.” What’s funny is he didn’t even know I was a journalism student.

The rest of the day paled in comparison. We got to talk to some MEPs (a Irishman, a Brit and a Hungarian). All were great—but especially the Hungarian’s take on Enlargement was irreverent.

Then we saw a plenary session of the Parliament where I was literally 5 minutes away from hearing Javier Solana (aka the EU's foreign ambassador essentially aka an international relations student's idea of heaven) give a progress report to Parliament.

Real Estate Advice From Yours Truly

I was never supposed to be here. I was originally supposed to intern at the European Central Bank in Frankfurt, Germany. This was my first choice. But at the last minute—two weeks before I left for Belgium and after finding an apartment in Frankfurt— the Bank canceled all internships there and so I was allocated to CEPS instead. This meant spending the summer in Brussels instead of Frankfurt. Though I was filled with rage for a day (I feel sorry for the hapless Future Shop employee who fell victim to my wrath in the aftermath of my finding out), I became resigned to my fate. At least this way I would be with the Brussels interns (numbering about 15) and would get housing help from the tour administration as they had promised.

A week into the tour and said administration announced this “help” consisted of gathering us into a room and informing us that housing was our responsibility and that should we have any difficulty to check the Internet, email the institutions we were to work at and good luck. Then we left for Luxembourg, Germany, and France two days later. Gee, thanks a lot.

I, being the proactive superstar I am, had been emailing potential landlords on craigslist a week before the aforementioned intern information meeting. I had some responses but each demanded a deposit be before I would receive keys in the mail. Why in the mail, you ask? Well because these landlords were in Africa doing missionary work, or in Georgia (the US state) working for months or some such international locale and unable to show me their places. But send the deposit, and they promised I’d get the keys (one even promised God would keep the deposit safe). Being smarter than I looked, I refused. But while I had street smarts, I had no apartment, and street smarts won’t keep you warm when you’re actually on the streets.

So I exploited my human resources. Cassandra’s parents live in Europe and they sent emails to their friends, family and contacts inquiring about available accommodations. The results were slow and dismal—we were offered rooms in various homes and locations for differing periods and were almost always separated. For my part, I hounded people who went on the tour last year. They pointed me to websites and ads and gave me email addresses. While we went on a bit of a hiatus for a week (our biggest tool—the Internet—was in a poor state in Germany and France), we came back to Brussels terrified we’d live in boxes. So Thursday was a flurry of emails and further Internet scouring.

Finally, last weekend was spent looking for apartments. After exhausting our Internet resources—we emailed, called or messaged every apartment/housing site in Belgium—we decided to hit the pavement. Literally. People had told me the best way to find a place was to simply go to a neighborhood and walk around. To my North American ears, this sounded ridiculous. But oh it worked. Friday we walked for five hours looking housing. In the process, I developed a new game I’m confident will sweep the nation.

It is best played with two or more players and requires use of a residential street. Each player takes their position on opposite ends of the street. Then they look into the windows of houses on the opposite street they are on (it’s easier on the neck that way) for signs that read “a louer” (to rent en française). The person with the most sightings wins.

I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s amazing how efficient this is. Cassandra and I played this game twice (Friday and Saturday), though we didn’t get into the swing of things until Saturday (where I ended an hour and a half session with a win 11 to 9). Whenever we saw “a louer,” we’d go over and read the ad. If it met our elementary standards (have at 2 bedrooms or 1 very big bedroom and was furnished) we called the number—sometimes we called when none of those were met.

And I’m happy to announce, that after much searching and stressing, we have finally found a suitable apartment. It only took two weeks and a few lemons (while looking at one place, we asked a police officer if we should live in the admittedly sketchy looking neighborhood, to which she replied, “No, not at all!”), but we got one. It’s close enough to work that I can walk, in a safe neighborhood, has a big bathroom, a washer and dryer, a balcony and a big closet.

We move in Thursday. Provided that the Australian who lives there is out by then…